


Soigné

by rebellious_sheep



Series: VillanEve One-Shots [3]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Villanelle in suspenders oof, gay panic & real panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebellious_sheep/pseuds/rebellious_sheep
Summary: Villanelle looked exceptionally dapper … extremely dashing … and extra deadly tonight. Eve better watch out. Seriously.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Series: VillanEve One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957213
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62





	Soigné

The tepid weather tonight had Eve feeling extra companionable. For some reason, she decided to hit the town alone, something she had seldom felt the desire to do ever since she hit her forties. 

After a quick shower, Eve stood half-naked in her bedroom, looking at the sad state of her closet. Wow, she really did have a lot of turtlenecks and sweaters as the aforementioned clothing took up a good percentage of the tops she owned. They were perfectly comfortable and suitable attire for work, Eve defended to herself. Digging through her closet, Eve found a navy blue dress in the back that seemed to fit the occasion, not too modest nor too flashy. It was perfect for a casual outing.

Her first thought was to go to the gang’s usual spot, but when she saw the crowd, Eve decided against it. The night was still young. Plenty of people were out milling around so Eve didn’t feel unsafe wandering alone. A few blocks down, she came across a small pub. _Eden’s_ , it read. There was a small rainbow flag amongst a plethora of other colorful stickers on the window. With a shrug, Eve went in.

So far, it wasn’t a bad first experience. She ordered her usual—gin and tonic—and sat there at the corner of the bar, content to sit back and people watch. Human mating rituals were certainly odd, Eve thought with amusement as she looked onto the mostly young(er) crowd. 

When the bartender set another one in front of her, the sound of the glass clinking against the countertop caught Eve’s attention.

“Oh, I didn’t order another one,” Eve said, confusion coloring her tone.

“From the blonde at the end of the bar,” the bartender replied, gesturing with her head. 

Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Eve turned her head to look at the person in question. She was beautiful. Her long blonde hair was slicked back, straight strands falling over her shoulders. She was easily the most attractive woman Eve had ever seen. 

The blonde held her stare, quirking her lips slightly. The appreciative look Eve got was really flattering, but she wasn’t looking for a hookup or to try her luck with the fairer sex, not tonight anyways. 

But a free drink? Alright. Eve wasn’t going to turn that down. If she had bought her an order of nachos to go with, Eve would have seriously considered proposing to her right then and there. Instead, she held up the glass and raised it in a show of gratitude towards the woman. 

Apparently, the woman took that as a sign to approach her. Maybe Eve should have declined it. 

“Thanks …” Eve trailed off with a conciliatory smile, hoping that she would take the hint and leave her be. 

She didn’t. 

Well then. 

Maybe Eve was destined to make small-talk with this woman for the remainder of tonight. 

“You’re welcome. A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be sitting alone.” The blonde took a seat beside her, head propped on hand as she casually leaned her elbow against the countertop. 

Eve snorted. Wow. She decided to humor the woman, at least for a while. “Does that line actually work?”

“You tell me.” Her silent confidence was off the charts.

Eve glanced at the woman with as much indifference as she could muster. She eventually shrugged, unable to formulate a reply. 

The glint in the blonde’s eyes told Eve that she saw right through her. “At least have a drink with me,” she said. 

“Fine.”

“To not being alone, then.” Villanelle raised her glass.

Eve followed suit. “To not being alone,” she murmured. 

There was a heated pause when their eyes met. Genuine attraction and not admiration towards a woman was a seemingly foreign concept to Eve until tonight. Eve genuinely wasn’t sure where this was going.

“Are you from the States then?” she asked, hearing an accent similar to her own.

“California. Yep, gotta love Obama,” the woman nodded her head vigorously. 

Eve gave her a strange look but then shook it off. Americans were so fucking weird sometimes. “I’m Eve,” she said, finally introducing herself.

“I’m Nyko.”

Her eyebrows shot up. Grimacing, Eve guzzled the rest of her drink, relishing the burn. “What a coincidence, my ex-husband was also named Niko.” 

Nyko smiled, showing her pearly white teeth. “This must be fate.”

“Well, I’m not going down that road again. No matter how charming you are.” Marriage to one Niko was enough for Eve, let alone another. Come to think of, thinning about marriage to anyone was a daunting prospect nowadays. 

“What, you don’t believe in fate?” 

“Not particularly,” Eve shrugged. 

Nyko pouted. It was an adorably attractive look on her. “Am I at least more handsome than him?”

Taking a breath, Eve took a good long look at the woman in front of her. Those high cheekbones and deep hazel eyes. She had on a black fitted blazer and a crisp white button up shirt. Nyko angled her shoulders, shifting them slightly, and Eve caught a glimpse of black. Dear lord, were those suspenders underneath? 

“Yes,” she admitted with a blush. “He grew this horrid mustache about five years into our marriage. Couldn’t get him to get rid of it,” Eve disclosed with distaste. 

“No facial hair, got it,” Nyko nodded sagely. Abruptly, she changed the subject. “I have changed my mind. You can call me Villanelle.”

Her words gave Eve whiplash and made her pause for a second before she shrugged in assent. Being comfortably tipsy, Eve didn’t think about it too much. “Okay, Villanelle it is.” She was a weird one but Eve had heard weirder things come out of other people’s mouths, so she went along with it. “Is that your middle name or…?” 

Villanelle was a pretty uncommon name. Unique, but fitting, much like the woman in front of her. Much better than Niko, if she was being honest. Bleh. 

“Yep, it is.” Villanelle confirmed easily. 

They made easy conversation about nothing and everything in particular. Eventually, they navigated over to one of the vacant booths. Eve decided that she wasn’t bad company after all. Even though Villanelle was vain, it was still somehow an attractive quality on her, only adding to her charm. It did make Eve wonder though. Villanelle was easily one of the most attractive people she had ever met, so what was she doing here with Eve? There was no shortage of people here tonight and Eve was perceptive enough to catch several envious looks thrown her way. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you keeping me company when I’m sure there are a lot of other people that could hold your interest?” Eve asked when there was a brief lull in conversation. 

“What do you mean?” Villanelle sounded genuinely confused. “You are an attractive woman, Eve and I am enjoying your company.” 

Uncharacteristically, Eve blushed. “Uh—thank you.” This woman was turning her into a stuttering mess. “I’m straight,” she blurted, feeling the need to let Villanelle know this little tidbit. 

“I see.” Villanelle looked suddenly pensive. “Does this mean we can’t be friends?”

“Wha—of course, we can be friends,” Eve sputtered. “I—I just thought—”

Dejection was gone from her expression in a flash, replaced with twinkling eyes. “I’m just joking with you, Eve.” 

Geez, was this woman a method actress or something? Her personality was this weird mix of hot and cold, of crazy and sane. It was jarring to Eve, who suddenly wanted nothing more than to figure Villanelle out. 

“You asshole,” Eve said, whacking Villanelle on the shoulder. The awkwardness of her confession was gone and they both shared a good laugh over it as Villanelle clutched her shoulder, feigning an expression of pain. 

When the laughter died down, they were left staring into each other’s eyes again. Villanelle leaned over the table and cupped Eve’s cheek suddenly. “Eve…”

Eve froze, not expecting such an intimate touch, but she didn’t pull away. Her eyes fluttered shut automatically as Villanelle’s face came closer and closer. 

Someone presumably drunk knocked into their table, muttering their apologies, and the spell was broken. Eve’s eyes snapped open and she pulled back awkwardly, looking away. 

“I should go…” she said, almost to herself. 

When she found the courage to glance at the blonde again, there was a murderous look in Villanelle’s eyes as she glared at the back of the person’s head who had interrupted them. Instinct made Eve put her hand over Villanelle’s arm, a gesture made to pacify.

At the touch, Eve watched as the familiar bubbliness slipped over Villanelle’s face again. 

“May I accompany you home?” Villanelle asked lowly, with sparkling eyes and hidden intentions.

  


* * *

  


Okay, maybe Eve wasn't straight.

Somehow, Eve found herself inviting Villanelle inside. Somehow, she found herself twining her arms around Villanelle’s neck and pulling her down for a kiss. Villanelle's blazer drop carelessly to the floor and Eve’s hands roamed her back eagerly. Eve's hands caressed her suspenders, sliding them up and down on her shoulders. 

“Eve, as much as I’m enjoying this. I have to admit something before we continue.” She sounded pained, but withdrew her hands from Eve's ass. 

“What? You’re going to murder me and then hide the body?” Eve murmured with humor, continuing to pepper kisses on Villanelle’s neck, wanting Villanelle's hands back on her.

Villanelle chuckled, the sound high pitched and girly. “Wow, you are really good at guessing. Not anymore, though.” 

Eve stopped all movement and pulled back. She must have heard wrong because she had to be joking. The punchline never came and Eve watched with disbelief as a knife with a hooked end appeared out of thin air into Villanelle’s hand. 

What. The. Actual. Fuck. 

Where did she even have the space to hide that? 

“I was hired to kill you, Eve Polastri.” Villanelle’s voice was now lower. Gone was the American accent replaced by a Russian one. 

Oh god, _this woman was really trying to kill her_. Eve had brought her home. And they were alone. Panic overtook her entire body. 

“... but I do not think I am going to anymore.” 

Eve was so busy panicking that the rest of her sentence didn’t compute in her brain. Her brain was screaming _flight flight flight_. And honestly, who could blame her?

This woman had approached her in a bar. Struck up a conversation. Seduced her (sort of). And now she was going to kill her. How long had this been planned? Was Villanelle even her real name? While these questions and thoughts swam in her mind, Eve did what any sensible person would do. 

She ran. As she bolted up the stairs, Eve heard Villanelle yelling expletives as she gave chase. 

“Argh, stop running!” Villanelle growled. ”This is not the kind of chase I enjoy unless it ends with both our clothes coming off!”

Was she seriously trying to flirt with her after announcing the fact that she was here to kill her, Eve thought incredulously.

She skidded into the bathroom, and locked it with shaky hands. There was no way out except out the window. Glancing around wildly, there was a considerably small amount of lethal weapons to choose from. A plunger, a toothbrush, a toilet bowl scrubber. Either way, Eve was going to meet her fate tonight. 

She gripped the sides of the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Wide eyes. Mussed hair. Still in her dress. Racing pulse. All the signs of a good date … or from running away from an assassin. Eve tried to calm her breathing. 

Meanwhile, Villanelle pounded on the door from the outside, hollering: “Let me in, Eve!”

Eve ignored it, but she knew that she was a sitting duck here holed up in the bathroom. 

The pounding on the door got louder and then it abruptly stopped. “Open this door, Eve. I just want to talk,” Villanelle said through the door, gentling her tone. 

Yeah, right, Eve thought. It was only a matter of time before she got in. Shit shit shit. She glanced frantically around, hoping for a miracle. 

There was a scary growl of frustration and then a loud crash. The white bathroom door splintered open with the force of Villanelle’s foot through it. 

Fuck, Eve really didn’t want to die tonight. 

With a squeal, Eve grabbed the first thing she saw. The toilet scrubber was menacingly thrusted towards Villanelle like it was a knife, except without any sharp edges. Yeah ... not her best choice of weapon. 

The resulting bemused expression on Villanelle’s face was almost comical, had Eve not been running from her murderer-to-be. 

“Stay back,” Eve said, trying to sound firm. 

Villanelle snatched her makeshift weapon and tossed it aside without a second glance. “Calm down, Eve.” 

“How did you know my name?” she demanded.

“Why would I not know your name? You told me earlier tonight, ” Villanelle replied with an unimpressed look.

“Right,” Eve mumbled. “Why were you hired to kill me?” She needed to keep Villanelle talking, but she also wanted to know. It didn’t make sense. Her job of being the most boring paper-pusher in MI6 shouldn’t inspire any enemies except Deborah who occasionally gave her the stink-eye because Eve ate her guacamole, once! 

“I do not know.”

“Wait, you were going to murder me for no good reason?”

Villanelle easily shrugged it off as if the burden of killing innocent people simply didn’t exist in her world. “Probably not the first time. The odds of you being ‘innocent’ are around the same as the odds of you being ‘evil’. No one is ever innocent. And look, you are still alive, okay?” She looked at Eve as if she couldn’t fathom why Eve was reacting like this.

“How can you be so indifferent about all this?”

“I am an assassin. They tell me who to kill and I do it. No questions. Then they pay me. Everybody is happy.”

“Except the people you kill,” Eve reminded her. 

“Riight,” Villanelle remarked, as if that was an afterthought that had no effect on her whatsoever. 

Huffing, Eve knew that her being indignant wasn’t going to do her any good, much less Villanelle the assassin. It was like she was talking to a diamond brick wall that only cared about the way it glinted in the sunlight.

“You know I was thinking of doing it while you were at home last night. Maybe in the bathtub. Or on your way to work. The subway is a really good place for accidents,” Villanelle informed her lightly, as if she was sharing a fun fact and not the possible ways she could have murdered Eve.

“You’ve been watching me? For how long?” Eve asked with horror. 

Villanelle continued as if Eve hadn’t interrupted her. “I had so many chances, but I could not bring myself to do it. Do you know why, Eve?” 

“Why?”

“I am asking you, Eve Polastri because I do not have an answer.” 

“Well, I don’t either. So either kill me or leave me alone,” Eve said bravely. 

Ten seconds passed. 

During this, Eve was strangely calm, just waiting for Villanelle to seal her fate. The concept of death wasn’t novel to her. She was only mortal and it was what it was. If Fate did exist, they were an absolute dickswab, Eve thought angrily. 

“Okay, I have made up my mind,” Villanelle said with a cheeriness that rivaled that of a child being asked if she wanted pizza or ice cream for dinner. 

Slowly, Eve met those cold yet mischievous hazel eyes. If Eve was going to die tonight, she wanted to look her killer in the eyes as she took her last breath.  
  
.  
.  
.

  


“I just want to have dinner … with you, okay?” Villanelle said softly. “Maybe sex later.” She saw the incredulous expression on Eve’s face and corrected herself. “But only if you want to,” she added. 

Silently, Eve stared at Villanelle for a really long time, searching for something in Villanelle’s expression. A chink in her armor perhaps, a hint of vulnerability, anything. Any other sane person would have called the police or run away screaming by now. But not Eve.

As the silence wore on, Villanelle fidgeted imperceptibly. She put her hands in her trousers and her posture drooped slightly. 

“Okay,” Eve finally responded, her tone just as light. She watched Villanelle brighten immediately at her response. 

“I am in the mood for Thai.” 

“Okay.” This was the strangest night ever and now Eve was going to have dinner with the assassin that was hired to kill her, but didn’t. 

“Can we watch a movie too?”

“Sure. No horrors, okay? I already know I’m going to have nightmares from today. And no knives, please.” 

“I will make sure you dream of me.”

“Please don’t.”

“Admit it, Eve. You like me. You like-like me,” Villanelle teased with a smirk. 

“I do not. You tried to kill me.”

Villanelled sighed. Loudly. “Are you going to bring that up every time?” 

“Every time? It happened like ten minutes ago!” Eve spluttered with indignation.

“Yes, yes. But I did not. Besides, we can make new memories. We can-what is the phrase- Kristen all the rooms in your house. Especially the bathroom, I have a thing for bathrooms.” 

“It’s called _christening_ the house. And we will _not_ be doing that. This house isn’t even newly bought,” Eve said, trying to sound stern. 

Villanelle moved closer, her thumbs sliding smoothly down the black straps of her suspenders. They snapped faintly as they returned to their original spot. “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?” she purred. 

“ _Mon dieu, tu es horrible_ ,” Eve muttered, her cheeks a faint pink. Her French only slipped out when she was under duress. Why did Villanelle have to be so damn sexy?

“ _Je pourrais te faire des choses horribles, chérie. Il vous suffit de demander_.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Eve sighed. Of course she spoke French. 

“Not tonight, Eve. Not tonight.” She stepped into Eve’s personal space and brushed her lips against Eve’s cheek. “And I want to watch Finding Nemo.” Then, Villanelle spun around and exited the bathroom.

Eve pressed a cool hand to her burning cheek. Shaking it off, she followed after her. 

There was still a chance that Eve would wake up tomorrow and find out that this was all a dream. Surprisingly, she found that she didn’t want it to be. 

“You’re paying for my bathroom door,” Eve called out. 

Seriously, she didn’t get paid enough for this shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation: " _Je pourrais te faire des choses horribles, chérie. Il vous suffit de demander._ ":  
> "I could do horrible things to you, honey. You only need to ask."


End file.
